


you will find me in places that we've never been

by g_uttertrash



Series: domestic monsters [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magic, Vampire Louis, Werewolf Niall, Witch Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g_uttertrash/pseuds/g_uttertrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1313 Willow Wisp Lane has seen many things over the course of its long life as a house, but never has it seen a surprise party consisting of an undead king, a witch who can conjure sunlight, a werewolf who doubles as a pastry chef, and a mystery. </p><p>(Louis reveals more about his past, Harry makes it rain, Niall makes food, and everyone wonders about Liam.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you will find me in places that we've never been

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! it's a little late but i've actually been sick since the 31st ugh but i did i say i wanted this up by early january so here we are! 
> 
> quick thing: i just wanted to say thank you to all the people who do fanart on tumblr, it's amazing and beautiful and it's honestly a HUGE part of the reason i have kept writing this so here's to you! <3
> 
> thank you so much for all your kudos and comments!!! playlist is [here](http://8tracks.com/g-uttertrash/domestic-monsters) if you want, whole idea is based loosely on [this](http://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/66494076079/necrotype-domestic-monsters-the-witch) post, and (as always) the title is from one direction's "walking in the wind"

Harry sits down, promptly, right there in the middle of the field. The ground is still somewhat damp from the rain, but he doesn’t care. He has to put his head between his knees and breathe a little bit. Soundlessly, Louis kneels down beside him. He calmly rubs a hand across Harry’s back.

“You’re a king,” he finally manages. “All right.”

“Well, not anymore. I died, see. It passed on to…” Louis sucks in a sharp breath. “Someone else.”

“Your…son?”

Louis laughs quickly, a burst of sound in the otherwise quiet morning. “God, no! My wife and I didn’t ever—”

Harry’s head snaps up. “Your _wife_?”

“Well, yes. It was the _tenth century_ , Harry. A king had to be married. Besides…” He takes a deep breath, starting over. “Okay. Remember how I said things with my parents were complicated?”

Harry nods. Just when he thought life couldn’t possibly get any more odd, here he was, with a damp bum in the middle of a field, sitting beside a thousand-year-old vampire, listening to a tale of his Byzantine adolescence as a _king of France_. Just another day in the English countryside, really.

“Well, they made me marry her. It was the condition I had to accept in order to become king, because they knew I was gay, and they were _not_ happy about it. I said sure. I wanted to be King of Aquitaine, y’know? So they set me up with this woman who was the same age as them, Adelaide, who had been married twice already. And she bloody _hated_ me.”

“Really?”

Louis nods. “I was just a kid when we got married, only about sixteen or so. I don’t know what she expected going in, but I was not what she was looking for. I told her immediately that I was gay and there wouldn’t be any… _consorting_. She and my parents took it equally well, let me tell you.”

“So…”

“So no babies, no heir to the throne, and less than a year later, she’d done a runner. Then of course, five years later, I was murdered.”

“When you were bitten?”

“Sort of. It’s kind of confusing, but here goes: I didn’t want to die, so I had to.”

“You’re right,” Harry says, nodding, “that makes absolutely _no_ sense.”

“Well, after that whole marriage thing, plus this whole other issue with the Holy Roman Emperor—which is a long story that I won’t get into—my mother and stepfather were quite unhappy with me, and they poisoned me.” He frowns as Harry gapes. “At least, I think it was them. _Somebody_ assassinated me, but unsuccessfully, because Edith bit me and I survived—sort of. I had to die to live, but at least I got to choose how I’d go, instead of being poisoned.”

“But they were your _parents_.”

“Not really. Parents are supposed to love you, yeah? They’re meant to support you, no matter what.” He shrugs. “And I was just someone they didn’t want me to be. When I wasn’t willing to change, they lashed out. It’s what people do sometimes. They can’t handle things out of their control, and it scares them.”  

“Does it ever…I dunno, make you upset?” Harry touches the back of Louis’ hand, fingers moving over the small swells of his knuckles.

Louis’ lips quirk at the tiny amount of contact. “No. I’d do it all the same, over and over again. Because throughout it all, I was _me_. I was honest. And if I had to die for it, well…there’s something kind of magical about that, right?” He smiles fully and it’s like the sun shining overhead. He nudges Harry’s shoulder with his own. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met you, would I?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says seriously. “I think you might have. Reincarnation is a widely-held belief by loads of people, not just witches. I think we could have.” _I think we were meant to._

“Yeah, what’s that quote from that movie about the dinosaurs? ‘Life finds a way.’”

“The movie about the—” Harry rolls his eyes. “Like you don’t know what it’s called.”

“Excuse me? I’m over a thousand years old. Don’t you know? That means I’m not,” and here, he does air quotations, because of course, “ _up with the times_ , Curly. I’m not _hip_.”

Harry snorts out a laugh. “Please stop talking.”

“Your wish is my command.” Grabbing the collar of his shirt, Louis gently pulls Harry in, kissing him breathless—though, if he’s being honest, every kiss makes Harry breathless. Every kiss is like that first time, like it’s happening all over and his heart is blossoming in his chest, all soft heat and the bright, bursting sweetness of something _beginning_. He has this sneaking suspicion that he’s going to feel this way for the rest of his life.

“So, no kids,” Harry says when they part, Louis still leaning in close. “But…you can _have_ them, right? I mean…”

“Long as there’s blood in me, sure.” He gets this soft look on his face that, if Harry wasn’t already in love with him, would make him fall right then and there. “Someday, I’d like a little brood.”

Harry files that away for future reference, because hell _yes_. “So,” he says, clearing his throat. “That was your crown, wasn’t it.”

It’s not really a question. He just wants to hear it all from Louis’ mouth.

Louis nods. “It’s the only thing I have left from my real life. My first life.” He smiles and Harry gets a choice glimpse of his slightly-longer-than-normal canines. “But you have a piece of it now. So in a way, it’s yours, too. Kind of like me.” He holds his hands out. “I’m all yours now, babe.”

“You sure? No more skeletons in that closet of yours?” Harry smirks. “Or should I say storage unit?”

Louis pretends to think about it. “Literally, or figuratively?”

“You don’t _really_ —”

Louis laughs, his nose wrinkling. “No, not really. I used to, but not anymore. Um, the only thing I can think of is that _technically_ , one time, I was also Louis VII.”

“ _What_. Seriously?”

Louis nods. “Yeah. He and I looked a lot alike and he wanted a vacation, so I told him I’d step in. Then they tried to marry me to Eleanor of Aquitaine, so I was out of there, told him he was on his own.” 

Harry laughs. “That’s incredible. You have lived quite the life, haven’t you?”

“Dozens, actually. But so far, this one’s my favorite.”

Harry can tell after that Louis is restless by the way he sits and taps his fingers, so he decides to stop with the questions for now. Instead, they spend the entire day outside. Even though he’s probably tired, Louis doesn’t say a single thing in complaint. Harry can’t even tell by looking at him; his face is lit up, perfect, and he wants to do _everything_.

So they do. They run to the woods, Harry all wild long legs and the wind in his hair, Louis’ heart pounding, pounding, pounding with Harry’s blood just like his feet against the sun-warmed earth, laughing uncontrollably from the pure exultation of it, his sides aching by the time they reach the trees. They duck inside where it’s cooler, but Louis can’t bear to be in the shade; he makes sure the dappled sunshine falling through the leaves is touching him at all times. They pick flowers, Harry using magic to string them together into garlands, stretching them from tree to tree, decorating their clearing. Flowers adorn them like jewels, Harry making them both crowns, the way he always wanted to. Louis’ is made of cornflowers, of course, to match the blue in his eyes and Harry takes the pure white yarrow and snowdrops they find scattered around the stream. Flowers spill from their pockets and between their fingers, and the air is fragrant and rich.

They go wading into the stream, Louis rolling up the hems of his jeans, Harry admiring his slim ankles. His skin tans to gold in the sun quickly, like it was just waiting for the opportunity, and Harry greatly appreciates the view—this must be what it would be like if he were alive, fully human. _But how is he_ not _,_ Harry thinks, shaking his head at the logic of it all. _He_ is _alive, here, with me. His heart beats because of me._

It’s sort of an insane thing, to realize you’re responsible for the life of another person. It hits Harry right in the middle of their wading, searching the stream for smooth stones and shiny rocks, watching the little silver fish that go swimming past and the bugs that land on the surface of the water to sip at the bubbles, airy and quick as a dream.

Harry sits down in the stream, the water still cold despite his sunny spell. It sends a shock rippling straight through him and Louis laughs, his eyebrows raised. “Babe, what on earth—”

“I…” He can’t even put all his feelings into words. There’s just so much inside him now. There always was, with him being a witch and all—he’s always had _more_ than the average person. But this is something else entirely. This is a different kind of magic, one he didn’t know was real, one that exists purely between the two of them, a living thing that has its own heartbeat, something that breathes and dreams. It doesn’t stop there, either. It keeps _going_. Like the universe, it’s ever-expanding, the two of them endlessly creating it together.

“Harry?”

“I just…” He shakes his head, smiling. “I just love you.” He could say it with every breath for the rest of his life, and it would never be enough.

Louis’ eyes soften to a crystal blue. With that flower crown on, he certainly looks the king that he once was, all regal high cheekbones and eyes heavy-lidded with his Harry look. “C’mere,” he says, holding out a hand. “You’ll catch a chill if you just sit there.”

Harry thinks for a moment, a plan slipping into his mind—and then takes Louis’ hand. Louis’ eyes go wide as Harry pulls him down and they both go crashing into the water.

Louis sits there, eyes wide with shock, his mouth open. His eyes flick to Harry. “You—”

Harry bites his lip, trying to hide his grin, but he can’t stop. “Yeah.”

“You little—” Louis makes a strange motion, vibrating from head to toe, and Harry realizes—he’s _shivering_. “It’s c-cold,” Louis says, teeth chattering. Despite that, the most beautiful smile spreads across his face. “Harry, it’s _cold_.”

Harry looks down at the water in wonder. “You can feel that?”

“Yes! It’s _so_ cold!”

Louis springs to his feet, kicking water out in wild waves like he’s on a footie pitch. Harry yelps, throwing up his arms to shield his face, kicking back. They throw great handfuls of the stream water at each other, laughing and sputtering, Harry twirling and Louis splashing, until they’re both soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably, still snickering.

“Y-your lips are purple,” Louis manages.

“So are yours.”

“Maybe we should—”

“Get out of these wet clothes?” Harry asks, blinking innocently. “Warm up?”

Louis’ teeth are always so sharp when he grins; Harry dreams of crescent moons that look just like his smile. “You read my mind.”

They stay in their clearing, in their patch of sunlight. They undress each other slowly, carefully, setting out their clothes on rocks to dry. Excitement bristles through Harry at the thought of seeing all of Louis blazing in the light. The car in the storm was fun and it had to happen because they just _needed_ each other so badly and Louis was drinking his blood, but this, this is what he’s been waiting for.

Louis’ lips are soft when he presses them against Harry’s, his smaller hands cupping Harry’s face like Harry is some kind of holy chalice he wants to drink from forever, his key to eternal life. He lowers him back against the grass, his body flush to Harry’s, his chest and hips a pleasantly solid weight, their legs entangled. Harry touches him everywhere he can reach, hands on his hips, nails scraping gently over his shoulders, down his spine, skating softly over his abs and chest, fingertips swirling around his nipples. He laughs into Louis’ mouth when he shudders, his own hands exploring Harry, his skin warm, warm, warm, his heart a delightful metronome that Harry can feel and hear, beating in time with their breath. He presses his palm firmly to Louis’ chest and he pulls back.

“Something wrong?”

Harry shakes his head. “Feel that?”

“Feel—?” He stops, his face going blank for a moment. “Oh. _Oh_.” He places his hand over Harry’s, holding him to Louis’ chest. “It’s been so long, I didn’t even notice. Oh, wow.” Not many things surprise Louis, not after all this time, but this…this leaves him speechless. “Didn’t know it _could_ do that anymore,” he admits after a moment. “Wow, it’s loud, innit?”

Harry smiles, reaching for him with his other hand. His fingertips brush against the base of Louis’ half-hard cock and he gasps, his heartbeat speeding up. He looks down at Harry with narrowed eyes. The disapproving effect is somewhat ruined as a lock of hair falls over Louis’ forehead, giving him a devil-may-care air that turns Harry on even more.

“You’re going to enjoy this far too much, I can tell already.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Louis grins wildly and kisses Harry again, more fiercely this time. His hands drop to Harry’s wrists, holding him to the ground. His tongue sweeps Harry’s bottom lip and he parts his mouth quickly, arching into him. Louis’ tongue is hot as he traces the shape of Harry’s teeth, tasting him like he wants to devour him whole. Harry whimpers, hips jutting up against Louis’. In response, Louis grinds down, his cock hard against Harry’s thigh, and he whines louder.

Louis moves down to his neck, nipping playfully, but the fangs don’t come out this time. His warm breath makes Harry shiver and bite his lip to keep the moaning tempered down. Louis must be able to sense that he’s holding back because he slides further down Harry’s body, licking one of his nipples quickly. Harry yelps, heat pouring through him like the sunlight.

Louis smirks up at him. “Now _that’s_ what I was going for, love. You don’t have to hold back around me. It’s just us out here.” He closes his mouth around Harry’s nipple, his tongue hot and wet. Harry’s breath comes faster now, his cock hard and pressed between them. If he shifts his hips just the right way, he can use their friction to work himself somewhat, and that, combined with Louis’ tongue, is making his vision blur and his mouth go a little dry.

Louis releases one of his wrists and digs his thumb into Harry’s hip. He takes him in his hand and Harry chokes on a gasp, the base of his spine tingling. He uses his free hand to touch Louis’ hair, to move through the soft waves and dig in, gripping a handful as he swirls his thumb over the leaking head of Harry’s cock.

“Louis,” Harry murmurs.

In response, Louis sinks lower and takes him in his mouth. “ _Oh_ ,” Harry says, letting out a long breath. The tension in his limbs melts out of him for the space of a moment before it snaps back, Louis’ tongue moving down the underside, tracing the vein there.

“ _Louis_ , oh my god.” Harry throws his arm over his eyes, his head thrown back. He’s basking in the pure sunlight, his entire body so hot that he feels like he might combust right here.

Louis hums a vague, triumphant answer and Harry swears, hands opening and closing on Louis’ hair.

Louis makes a noise of surprise and sits up, his hand replacing his mouth. “Harry,” he says, laughing.

“What?” he manages, despite the fact his mind is melting. 

“You’re levitating.”

Harry moves his arm, looking down. Sure enough, he’s hovering a few inches over the grass. “Oh. Sorr—”

Louis waves a hand at him. “No, it’s okay. Nothing to be sorry for. Ever.”  

Harry sits up anyway, though, and tugs on Louis’ hair to bring him closer. He kisses him messily, lovingly, cupping him by the back of the neck. “I love you,” he says breathlessly in between kisses, “have I mentioned that lately?”

“It’s been at _least_  fifteen minutes,” Louis trills and then he’s laughing as they go tumbling back to the grass, Harry on top of him this time, chasing his lips for every kiss.

The sun warms his back as he sits up, settling himself over Louis’ hips. Louis looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, his flower crown still haphazardly on his head, tangled in his hair. “Haven’t got anything,” he murmurs dazedly, and for a moment, Harry doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Oh. It’s okay. Unless you’ve got something I should worry about.” He pauses, looking down at Louis a little more seriously. “You don’t, right? Like thousand-year-old syphilis?”

“ _No_ , Harry. I was fine back then and I can’t get diseases now. I’m clean.” He laughs. “Now that we’ve had _that_ romantic chat…” He touches Harry’s hip lightly. “What about you, though? And I don't mean bad stuff."

“Me?” _Oh, yeah, me_. The full moon’s passed now, though,  he’s safe. “No, I’m okay. It’s fine, Lou, I promise.”

“We haven’t got any lube or anything, though.”

Harry grins. “I can help us there. _That’s_ what magic is for.”

“Oh, that’s what it’s for all along?”

“Uh-huh,” Harry says, moving his hands around like he’s holding an invisible ball, conjuring from inside the house. “That’s magic’s sole purpose. Lube for the gays.”

“Knew it,” Louis says, leaning down to watch delightedly as a bottle appears in Harry’s hands. Without any warning, he drizzles some on Louis’ cock and he twitches, sucking in a breath. “ _Ooh_ , cold!”

“Just making sure my blood’s not worn off yet.”

“Newsflash: It hasn’t.”

“Good. I like when you can feel things.” Harry tosses the bottle aside, where it lands in the grass. He runs his hands over Louis’ cock and he moans softly, gripping Harry’s hips tighter. He grabs one of Louis’ hands, slicking his fingers, pulling him forward. Louis’ finger circles his hole and he shudders, grinning, rocking his hips against Louis as he slides a finger in. Harry tosses his hair back, working himself on Louis’ finger, digging his nails into Louis’ abs and making him hiss through his teeth.

Louis inserts another and Harry mutters a curse. “Like that?”

Harry nods, biting his lip. “Uh-huh. More.”

“Can’t wait to fuck you," Louis says, his voice pitched low. "I’ve been dreaming about it.”

Harry stutters out a breathless laugh. “You don’t dream.”

“I do, though. With you around, with your blood in me. And all I dream about is biting you and fucking you until you come, screaming my name.”

Harry shudders and at that moment, Louis' fingers glide across his prostate. Harry's mouth falls open with a shuddering cry; he arches his back, his head down, his messy curls a curtain over his face. Louis grins serenely, scissoring his fingers back and forth, stretching him deliciously, until he can’t take it anymore. “Louis,” he urges, “ _please_.”

“All right, c’mere,” Louis says huskily. His eyes are darker, his pupils blown wide.

Harry strokes Louis’ cock once, twice, then positions himself. He sinks down slowly, groaning, Louis’ fingernails in the small of his back a delicious counterpoint to the sizzling enormity of feeling Louis’ cock in him for the first time. He lets out a breath when he’s all the way down, his arms and legs jittery, trembling. Even with Louis’ help, he’s filled to the limit. “Holy shit,” he breathes. “You feel…so good.”

“Yeah?” Louis twitches his hips ever so slightly and Harry bites his lip harder. “You’re so tight, babe. Just…give me a second.”

“The _vampire_ needs to take a second to breathe?” Harry can’t help giggling, his vision hazy. “That’s one I’ve never heard before.”

“Says the witch who conjures lube? All right.”

“You love it,” Harry says and he rolls his hips to prove it, Louis groaning, eyes shutting softly.

They rock together in suspension, slowly, getting used to the feel of each other. His hands roam across Louis’ abs until he feels Louis’ fingers on his; they entwine, palms pushing back against each other with every slide and shift of Harry’s hips. Louis brings his hand to his mouth and kisses the back of Harry’s hands, fingers tightening on his.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry, oh my god,” Louis says softly. Harry smiles, his eyes slits, twisting his hips a little bit faster. He’s looser now, but there’s still that incredible pressure at the base of his spine, jumbling fast in his abs, and all he can think is _Louis, Louis, Louis_.

Harry always imagined he knew magic, always had a handle on it, but he didn't really know it until now. Everything is so bright and he feels like he can see for miles and he can  _feel_ everything, he can feel every beat of warmth in the sunlight pooling around them, its magic motes star-shaped and golden; he can feel every breath of a butterfly from across the clearing, can see the vivid blue of its wings and the jewel tones of its black eyes; he can feel the individual blades of grass against his knees; he can feel Louis' heart, beating for the first time in centuries, his lungs spiraling air that Harry shares, air that tastes like flowers and wind; he can feel Louis' skin beneath him, around him,  _inside_ him, the two of them melding together, tethered at bodies and hearts. Nothing about them should work but it does and Harry is entranced, absolutely  _gone,_ as Louis moves a little bit more, a little bit faster, their bodies touching everywhere they possibly can. 

 _This_ is magic: The feeling of being together, oneness. 

“Harry,” Louis says quietly and he cracks his eyes open.

“I know,” he breathes, shaking his head. “Just ignore it.”

A bubble has appeared around them, pink and translucent, glimmering brilliantly in the sunshine. It’s almost transparent in places, like a trick of the light, but it grows stronger with every one of Louis’ thrusts.

“Impossible,” Louis groans. He shifts, sitting up so suddenly that Harry yelps and almost topples backward but a firm hand at the small of his back keeps him in place. Louis reaches a hand between them, working Harry’s cock at the same time that he snaps his hips up, driving into Harry harder. He kisses Harry deeply, hungrily, his hand moving up into his curls and tangling there, pulling his head back to kiss his throat. 

“Fuck,” Harry gasps as they part, a spiderweb string of spit connecting their lips, every part of them connected. Louis’ thumb circles the head of Harry’s cock over and over again, slick with precome, his world view narrowing to the feel of his hand going around and around, ringing a hot flash of pleasure through him with every stroke. “Fuck, Louis.”

“Shit, Harry, you’re so good, I’m—” He breaks off, muttering in French as Harry raises himself up on his knees, tightening his muscles, and _dragging_ back down. “ _Fuck_. I fucking love you.”

Harry laughs, gasping a moment later as Louis’ cock slides against his prostate, a thousand bolts of lightning hitting him at once. He cries out, crooking his arm around the back of Louis’ neck, holding on tight as he rides him harder, faster, bouncing up and down in his lap like he was meant for it.

“Harry—” Louis growls warningly. His movements on Harry’s cock are jerky, weaker.

“It’s okay, Lou, go, I’m all right,” he says hurriedly, a whimper in his voice.

“You sure?”

“ _Come_ , Louis.”

He’s not used to being told what to do, but being told by Harry, of all people, is enough to send him over the edge. Louis squeezes his eyes shut tight, biting Harry's shoulder without fangs as he comes; seconds later, Harry screams as he spills in Louis’ hand and against his stomach, his head thrown back, hair cascading down his shoulders. Beside them, the bubble bursts in a cloud of glitter and dandelions that float in the air around them. In an instant, mushrooms sprout up from the grass in a perfect circle around them. 

Slowly, Harry leans his head forward, letting it fall against Louis’ shoulder. Louis releases his hold on Harry’s hair and kisses the side of his head. They sit there for a long while, until Harry can't take the heat of his sun on his back any longer. Harry slides off his lap, limp and boneless, stretched out in the light. 

Bees are buzzing. That’s the first conscious thought Harry has when he returns to his body. Bees are buzzing, flying lazily over a small patch of honeysuckle that he can smell from where they lay. The grass shouldn’t feel this soft but it does, because he’s a witch and he’s in love and it wants him to be happy; he can feel its intent, its joy.

Harry rolls over, peeking out from between his ragged curls. Louis is laying spread out beside him, arms behind his head, fully bathed in the sun’s glow. His eyelashes are a vision against his cheeks. His flower crown is still on his head, the petals still as pristine as when they gave themselves over to Harry’s keeping, the way he enchanted them to. These crowns, just like this memory, will live forever.

There is a tiny pool of sweat in the dip of Louis’ breastbone. Harry darts forward, licking it, and Louis laughs. “Heathen.”

“Says you. I bet you fought with just about every pope in the last thousand years.”

“I can’t help it if they’re wrong.” He inhales a deep breath. “The new one’s all right, though.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to have your approval.”

“He should.” Slowly, Louis lets out that breath. He doesn’t need to breathe, ever, but he’s doing it anyway, right here and now.

“Lou?”

He doesn’t say a word, merely raises his eyebrows in response.

Harry isn’t sure if it’s annoying because it’s this smug insinuation that _of course_ , Harry must be looking at him to be able to see that eyebrow raise, or if it’s annoying that it’s so true and predictable and utterly Harry. He gets his answer when there’s a warm flutter in his chest at the thought that Louis _knows_ him. He loves being known. He thought, being a witch and not used to it, that it would be scary, that having someone know his secrets and his mannerisms would make him uneasy. It doesn’t. It just makes him feel more…complete. How can it be scary when it’s something he’s meant to do?

“Did you know that…well, have you noticed you’re breathing a bit more now?”

Louis’ chest stops mid-motion as he opens his eyes. “Oh.” Slowly, he draws in another breath. “You’re right. I hadn’t even noticed.” He lets it out, the tail end of it sputtering on a laugh. “Now I’m _too_ aware of it, it’s weird.”

“You felt the stream, too. The water.”

He nods. “Normally, I don’t feel the cold because I _am_ that cold. But lately, I’ve been—”

“Hot,” Harry deadpans, “totally hot.”

Louis squeezes his hip with one delightfully warm hand and Harry’s peal of laughter goes ringing up into the sky. They roll around, poking and tickling and screeching, before Louis posits that maybe, _just_ maybe, they ought to put their clothes back on in case any of the others come home and find them starkers in the woods like bona fide weirdos. Harry begrudgingly agrees and they gather up their scattered clothes. Harry doesn’t mention that he could’ve dried them easily with magic, and in seconds. Sometimes—not often, but _sometimes_ —magic can really take the fun out of things.

He catches Louis watching him dress. “What?” he asks. 

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” Louis gestures to the dandelion puffs still floating aimlessly around the clearing. “You have dandelion fluff and glitter in your hair.”

Harry just grins sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Is this going to be a regular occurrence with you?”

“Well, if you keep doing that thing with your mouth, and your hands, and your hips? Yeah.”  

Louis grins like a cat as Harry takes off his flower crown for a moment and shakes out his hair. They lay in the clearing for a little while longer just feeling the sunshine and each other, talking about the rains and the last season of one of the shows they watch and Harry’s job. The kittens are growing nicely and he wants one; Louis says _maybe_. They argue back and forth for a while over whether or not Niall’s really allergic, like he says he is (“sounds like werewolf bullshit to me” is Louis’ go-to answer), and how Felix would react to no longer being the only cat in the house if they got one.

Harry doesn’t notice it at first because he’s so wrapped up in Louis. It’s like a background awareness, something he knows is happening but that he doesn’t properly register until a bird lands on his knee. He looks around and makes a wordless sound of joy, sitting up.

“Louis, look!”

Louis opens his eyes, a look of alarm quickly crossing his face before it’s replaced by curiosity. He sits up, albeit more slowly than Harry.

They’re surrounded by birds. They’re perched on branches, hopping across the meadow greens toward them, tilting their little heads and rustling their wings as they bathe in the stream’s shallows. Swallows and skylarks with tufts on their heads chirp at each other happily while round wrens chase oil-slick starlings through the air. Nightingales sing cheerfully at bright red-chested linnets, who warble in reply; vivid greenfinches and robins join in for a full chorus while blackbirds watch from the top branches with careful eyes.

Louis gapes. “There’s so many…”

Harry flings himself back against the ground, waving up at them. “Hello!”

They all tweet and chirrup in response. Louis looks like he’s just realized he’s dreaming; Harry wonders if he’ll catch him trying to pinch himself. _As if that’s the weirdest thing to happen today_ , he thinks.

“Birds are my friends,” he explains with a casual shrug. “They like to pop in.”

“In _droves_?”

“Well. My energy might have called them here.”

“Your energy.” Louis turns to look at him, narrowing his eyes. “You wouldn’t mean your _orgasm_ , by any chance?”

“Orgasms are an expression of energy, yeah! Like a supernova.” Harry chews on his bottom lip, fiddling with the grass in front of his folded legs. “And I guess sometimes it…calls things to me. They respond to it. Kind of like a game of cosmic Marco Polo.”

“So…is _this_ going to happen often?”

“Maybe? Next time it might be squirrels.”

“Squirrels,” Louis repeats, fainter this time.

“Yep. Haven’t seen them in a while. It’s probably for the best, they’re cheeky buggers. Not as bad as the ravens, though.” When Louis just shakes his head, Harry laughs and nudges him with his foot. “This _can’t_ be weird for you, not after earlier.”

“You and I have very different definitions of weird.”

Harry is just about to respond to that when there's a surfeit of sound. He looks up to see a handful of birds bringing one of the garlands they made early and laying it at Louis' feet in the grass. They hop around, tilting their heads at him, watching, waiting. 

"Erm, what are they—"

A handful of crows arrive then, flying in dizzying, dreamy circles, before they drop down before the two of them. They bring to Louis, in order: a length of red yarn only slightly snagged, two silver buttons, a screw, and what looks like a small bone. To Harry, they give a piece of quartz and an earring of plastic pink hearts. 

"What is this?" Louis asks. The look on his face is pure wonder. 

"I think they like you!" 

The birds chirp at that, the smaller ones flying up to sit atop his head, others sitting on his knees and thighs. The crows caw quietly, ruffling their wings and shifting their feet. Harry nods, turning to Louis. "They say they want to welcome you as my bondmate. They noticed how much I like you and have decided they like you, too."

 “Erm, hello,” Louis says, grinning unsurely. They raise their voices to greet him and he laughs. “Oh my god. This is incredible.”

“You can’t talk to birds?”

Louis shakes his head slowly, careful not to displace any wrens or nightingales. “No, just typical spooky animals. You know, bats, wolves, that whole shebang. I think it’s part of why Niall and I get along so well.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry says. “That makes so much sense now.”

“What does?”

“Oh, Felix complains that you ignore him. I thought he just meant you weren’t petting him enough.”

“Is that why he’s such a—”

“He says you started it.”

“ _Me_? He’s the one who hogs the bed! How a tiny cat like that takes up that much room, I will never know, but you tell him if he doesn’t drop the attitude, I’m gonna give him to Niall to snack on.”

Harry laughs, even as he says, “ _Louis_. You can tell him yourself, you know. He understands you just fine.”

“No, thanks. I’ll show him _ignoring_.”

“Louis, you can’t fight with my cat forever!”

“Ha! Watch me. I’m immortal, darling.”

All of the cat talk makes the birds a little uneasy so they fly away, bidding farewell to Harry and Louis with tiny nips of their beaks. The two of them watch them go their separate ways, their music still filling the air. Louis picks up the garland they brought him, looking down at it with a tiny smile on his face. "So I guess the birds approve of our relationship."

Harry picks up the earring the crows brought him. "You know, I kind of like this." To Louis, he says, "I guess so. Always wise to trust the birds, that's what my grandmother always said." 

"That sounds like particularly witchy wisdom." 

"Mm-hm." 

" _Bondmates,_ are we?"

Harry smiles. "Uh-huh."

"Does that make us animal-married?"

"Basically. I guess," Harry says innocently, "you could say that was our wedding just now. In a sense."

"In animal terms."

"Yep."

"Well, here." Louis takes one of the flowers from the garland, offering it to Harry. He wraps the stem around Harry's ring finger on his left hand, tying it as carefully as he can. It's a daisy, prettier than any diamond ever could be. "There. Married in the eyes of nature it is." 

"Louis." Harry can't even speak for a moment, he's so genuinely touched. He's been a king, lived at least ten lifetimes, and he could have anything he wants in the world because he has a treasure trove worth of money and will never grow older than he is now. But what he wants is a daisy on his ring finger and Harry, plain old holes-in-his-jeans, witch Harry with garden soil beneath his fingernails and glitter in his hair. 

Louis holds out his hand, swallowing hard even as he smiles bright enough to rival their sun. "Do mine."

And Harry does.

 _We got married by some birds in a patch of magic sunlight,_ Harry imagines himself telling his mum, their future children, everybody. It works for him, it really does. 

After pocketing their gifts and trying not to grin like a fool at the flower on his finger, Harry looks at Louis. “You tired?”

“Not yet.”

He smiles. “Good. Because there's lots more to do out here." 

* * *

 

They’re picking and eating honeysuckle berries when there’s a loud whooping from behind them around half an hour later. It’s Niall, trailed by Liam, both of them toting all the necessary materials for a picnic. Harry almost can’t see Niall’s aura at first; it’s a shimmering gold that blends in with the sunshine. Beside him, Liam is his opposite. His is a wavering silver so light it might as well be transparent. It reminds Harry of Louis’ a bit. _But that doesn’t make sense,_ Harry thinks. _Louis is…_

“Oh, thank god,” Niall says, slapping his hands together and raising his hands toward the heavens. Felix is perched ever so carefully on his shoulder, claws snagging on his shirt. “I was worried we might find you shagging like animals out here.”

“You would know,” Louis says, throwing a dandelion in Niall’s direction.

“Just missed it,” Harry says, shrugging. “Next time, we’ll wait up.”

“Or take video,” Louis adds, snickering. He flashes a proud look at Harry and he blushes.

“So this is nice,” Liam says, spreading out a blanket on the ground. “Almost like all that insane rain never even happened, yeah? It’s a relief, I missed the light.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like _magic_ ,” Niall says, glancing pointedly at Harry. He smiles innocently, popping a berry in his mouth and reaching for Felix.

“Whatever it is, it’s great.” Liam ruffles Harry’s hair gently, being careful not to mess up his flower crown. “This is quite cool,” he says, touching the petals.

“Aren’t they?” Louis says. “Harry’s very talented with flowers.”

Harry shrugs, smiling. “They like me. I can make you one, if you’d like? And Niall?”

“Yes!” Niall says quickly. “I mean, you know, if you want.”

“Someone’s been wanting one for a while, I think,” Louis says, laughing. “Jealous, mate?”

“Eat me.”

Harry deposits Felix in Louis’ lap, who mutters something about “ _my enemy_.” Happily, Harry gets up to gather some flowers, prancing off through the trees. For Liam, he wants some of those gladioluses that like to roam the woods. There are some that bloom during the day too, and they symbolize strength and determination, traits that Liam always seems to give off whenever he’s around. He’s got a bit of an old soul, Harry thinks, in a way that most people probably don’t see. Plus, there’s just something about him…for all his strength, there’s a gentleness, almost a fragility.

Niall he gives daisies, because they are the happiest flowers around. He throws in a couple of daffodils too, for their bright yellow color, and one or two of the cornflowers, to match his eyes and to look nice beside the daffodils. _Gentleness_ , he thinks, weaving the flowers together with magic, binding their life force into the air around him. _New beginnings, friendship_.

When he comes back, Niall is hugging Louis tightly and Felix is batting at a daisy. They separate just as Harry arrives, Niall jumping excitedly around Louis like a puppy while Liam stands in the middle of the clearing, his face raised to the sun. There is a look of peace on his face and a brilliant smile. 

“What was all that about?” Harry asks Louis as Niall runs off to tackle Liam. They go rolling down in the grass, laughing and shouting. Felix jumps out of the way with an indignant meow.

“Oh, Niall? He’s happy. He’s never seen me in the sunlight before.”

“It _is_ pretty amazing, if I do say so myself. And you look good here.” Harry smiles. “Not that you don’t look good all the time, but especially here. Like this is where you’re meant to be.”

“Standing in the sun, next to you? I’ll take it.” Louis reaches up, touching Harry’s flower crown, trailing his finger down to his cheek. Harry shivers, the way he always does. “What a feeling, to be a king beside you.”

“An actual king, no less.”

Louis’ lips quirk. “Sort of.”

“Sort of,” Harry agrees. “But you know, I don’t care what history says. You’re a king to me.” He leans in, kisses Louis soft and slow. “Your Majesty,” he whispers against Louis’ lip when they part.

“Oh, no.” Louis huffs out a laugh. “Don’t start that on me.”

“Whatever you say, sire.”

“ _Harold_ ,” Louis growls.

“As you wish.” There’s a brief pause. “Your Highness.”

“Harry!”

Harry laughs, spiraling out of Louis’ reach, darting away from him across the grass while Louis rolls his eyes and mutters behind him.

After separating Liam and Niall with some small measure of difficulty, he plants their flower crowns on their heads, looking upon his work proudly. His magic must have some sort of effect on them because afterward, they’re lazy and sleepy, and it’s only Harry’s reminding that they brought a picnic that makes them realize they want to eat. The basket consists mostly of dessert nibbles, but there’s a few sandwiches in there too that Louis politely declines, of course. Liam and Niall divvy up his share and it makes Harry happy to see someone that Niall can get close to again, what with Zayn gone. Felix wanders around between them, everyone stopping to pet him as soon as he’s within reach.

“Okay,” Louis says from somewhere above Harry’s head as they’re dozing in the grass. “’m tired now.”

“Me too,” Harry murmurs. “Big morning. Lots done.”

Niall raises himself up on his elbows. “You? What have you even done?”

Louis snickers as Harry asks, “You really want to know?”

“No, on second thought, I really don’t. Forget I asked. But you can’t go to bed, because you have to stay up and help me with that, uh…thing. You know.”

“Right, the thing!”

“What thing?” Liam asks from somewhere to Harry’s left.

“None of your business, Liam.”

“Actually,” Niall pipes up. “He can help us, don’t you think? Y’know, fetching things.”

Harry pretends to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”

“I can help,” Liam says, more loudly. He sits up, his flower crown askew. “Let me help!”

“Well, all right, if you insist. You’ll have to go into town, and the roads are still all mucked up thanks to the storm.”

“That’s fine!”

Harry buries his face in Louis’ side to hide his grin. Louis rubs his shoulder and hums some song that Harry doesn’t know while the sun warms them. Felix crawls onto his shoulder, kneading him impatiently.

They help Niall gather up the picnic and head back for the house. As they’re strolling back through the grass and the flowers, the birds still chirping after them, Harry gets a wonderful idea. Well, wonderful for him, anyway.

He slides a sneaky glance at them. They’re all chatting, Liam carrying Felix carefully, wincing every time one of his paws slips and his claws come out, pricking holes in his black shirt.

“Liam, could you do me a favor?”

“Hm?”

“Can you take Felix back inside? I don’t want him getting any ideas about the birds out here.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“And then there’s a list of things we need on the counter, so you can go do that if you’d like.”

Liam brightens at the mention of the surprise. “Yeah, okay! C’mon Fee, let’s go on an adventure.” Felix grumbles in response, but Liam goes loping off across the field while the three of them stay, slowing their walks and watching him go.

“So you’re sure he doesn’t know anything?” Louis asks on the tail end of a yawn. “Positive?”

“Absolutely. Hasn’t a clue,” Niall says. “What did you write on that list for him, by the way?”

“Alchemy ingredients. Herbs and things. I’m running low.”

Niall laughs. “Wonder where he’s going to get that stuff ’round here.”

“Well, unless he nicks it from people’s gardens, nowhere! Which is the point. We just need him out of the house for an hour or so.” Harry looks at Niall. “You got all the stuff, right?”

“Yep! I gotta go preheat the oven right now, actually.”

“Yeah, you do.” Harry looks up at the sky, smiling. “So can I just say something?”

“What, Harry?”

“Remember you love me?”

Louis laughs, frowning quizzically at him. “What does that mean?”

Harry snaps his fingers. The sunny springtime illusion drops in an instant like a bubble that’s been popped, and suddenly the sky is a stormy gray, the air thick and heavy as rain comes pouring down onto their heads. Niall lets out a shriek unlike anything Harry has ever heard and Louis is too stunned to do much but gape for a long moment.

“ _HAROLD_ ,” Louis finally manages, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes while Niall laughs, overcoming his shock to lean back and howl at the sky like some kind of wild animal. 

“Remember you love me!” Harry yelps, running from them over the muddy, sopping ground, back to the house. He can hardly breathe, he's laughing so hard. 

He gets to the porch just as there’s a bright flash of lightning and a blur cuts across his vision. He stops short, almost slipping on the wet stairs when he sees Louis standing in front of the door, grinning like mad. “You forget, I’m faster than you,” he says, as the lightning flashes again. There’s something vaguely menacing about it, but all it does is remind Harry of the haunted house where they met, and he’s not scared at all, to his surprise. If anything, it’s… _hot_.  

“I didn’t forget.” Harry leans against the railing, twirling one finger through a wet curl. “So what happens if I rescind the invitation to the house? Are you stuck out here in the rain?”

“Sure, probably. But I can stop you from doing that.”

“Oh, yeah?” His heart is beating so fast, he’s almost certain it could outrun light. “And how would you do that?”

“I’m thinking something like this,” Louis says, still grinning like he’s the devil himself. He curls himself against Harry, damp clothes and skin flush against his, and he kisses him fiercely like they didn’t just spend the morning doing that. He’s always so _hungry_ for every bit of Harry, always wanting to be near to him, and Harry feels the same way, he always has. He wants to be beside Louis forever, within arm’s reach, always.

Louis leads them backward and he fumbles with the doorknob blindly, opening the door for them and leaving it open entirely. They make it to the bedroom, hardly separating for the space of a breath, before tumbling onto his—their—bed. 

They’re still kissing, Louis’ hand splayed beneath Harry’s shirt, when the front door slams shut. “I can hear you,” Niall shouts. “And I hate you!”

They laugh against each other’s mouths. “He’ll get over it,” Louis murmurs, diving his fingers into Harry’s hair and swallowing every noise he makes, claiming him with marks all across his skin.

After, when Louis is sliding into an exhausted sleep, Harry pulls his clothes back on and smiles to himself. Seems Louis responds to pranks the way he responds to most things: with _enthusiasm_. He's drying his clothes with magic, pulling the last of the moisture from them, when he notices the flower ring is still on Louis' hand, its petals a little wilted. Snapping his fingers, he vanishes it off Louis' hand to a safer place on his dresser, restoring its petals in a quick flash of pink light. He shuts the door quietly behind him when he leaves. 

Niall’s in the kitchen when he slinks in. “You degenerate,” he says immediately without even turning around. He’s making what looks like frosting.

Harry smiles. “I can’t change, Ni.”

“Yeah, and I love that about you. But now it’s time to _focus_.” He whips the mixture particularly hard, turning to look at Harry. “At least set up the decorations, will ya?”

Harry conjures the bag of secret goodies he procured the day before, peering inside. “Now _that_ I can definitely do.”

Twirling his fingers, he pulls the decorations out of the bag, and they go twisting into the air. He pins streamers to the walls with magic, draping everything with glitter and colorful lights. He sets the table with party plates and plastic cups in rainbow colors, leaving out plates for Niall’s food. 

The smell of a cake baking fills the air, thick and sweet.  

“Harry, can you put this cheese on the pizza for me?”

“Sure!” Harry snaps his fingers and the slices of cheese jump onto the pizzas. Harry helps him finish with the vegetables and the pepperoni, too, using his magic to take the cake out of the oven and put the pizzas inside. He dusts his hands off while Niall peers at the cake, sticking a toothpick into its center to ensure it’s done.

“That looks great, Niall.”

He grins. “Thanks! I hope he likes it.”

“It’s pizza and cake, what’s not to like?”

He can’t argue with that logic. There are few things more magical than pizza and cake. 

They finish up the decorations with only a few minor incidents, including Harry getting tangled in streamers and Niall having to sit down with his head between his knees after inhaling too much helium during the balloon inflation, just in time for the pizzas to ding in the oven. Harry takes them out and puts them on a cooling rack while Niall painstakingly frosts the cake, gently nudging some loose balloons aside with his foot.

Harry can’t help but notice him watching him every now and again. “What?” he finally asks. “Did I mess them up?”

“No, no! The pizza looks great.” Niall takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to say I’m really glad you and Lou are together.”

“Oh.” Harry blinks. He wasn’t expecting that at all, so he doesn’t really know what say. “Erm. Thank you?”

“I know you liked each other and I really hoped it would last, for his sake. Since…well, you know all that, yeah? It was about time he got back out there, and I think you’re really good for him. The best, really. It’s pretty obvious he really loves you.”

“I really love him, too. It’s crazy, right? How we’ve only known each other for this year, but it feels like forever, honestly.”

“Yeah. But you _fit._ Puzzle pieces and all tha’. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I’m glad you’re around because the last two hundred years of him pissin’ and moanin’ have been a nightmare.” Niall grins. “I really love you, too, by the way.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m taken.”

“Ha-ha. You know what I mean.”

“’Course I do. I love you too, Niall.”

Niall wrinkles his nose. “It’s all a bit gay, innit?”

“Understatement of the last one thousand years, I think Louis would say.” They laugh and Harry smiles. He doesn’t even remember what his life was like before meeting them. He scrunches up his nose, beckoning to Niall with a finger. “C’mere, you.”

“Uh, no.”

Twirling dramatically toward him, he says, “Hold me, Niall!"

He crooks an arm around Niall’s neck, who protests even as he laughs, trying not to make a mess of the frosting. He manages to smear some on Harry’s cheek, but he doesn’t even mind, pulling ridiculous faces to try and reach it with his tongue until he just gives up entirely.

“So,” Niall says as he’s putting the last of the frosting on the cake. “Have you heard from Zayn lately?”

“Just the last time, when he said he wouldn’t be able to make it for this.” Harry dips his finger into the leftover frosting, popping it into his mouth. “This is really good, by the way. You should try your hand at pastry.”

“I have. It’s a requirement at uni.” Idly, he sets the spatula he’s using back into the bowl. “Did he mention about—y’know, coming back in September? For mine?”

Slowly, Harry shakes his head. “He didn’t say anything. But, erm, I’ll shoot him a message in the seashell! See what’s going on.” He grabs Niall’s arm, shaking him slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be there, though. He wouldn’t miss it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And I know he’s busy, obviously, so—”

“He’ll be there, Niall. I’ll make sure of it.”

Niall smiles tentatively. “Yeah, okay.” He checks the time on the oven. “Maybe give Liam a call, see how that list is going?”

Harry laughs quietly at that, pulling out his phone. He puts him on speakerphone, Niall coughing into his hand to mask his laughter by the time he picks up.

“Hey.” He sounds distressed. “Can you believe this weather? Went right back to shit, all of town is a mess.”

“Oh, that’s tough, Liam! How’s it going with the list?”

“Um. Great! Really great. Super great.” His voice gets higher and higher and he laughs nervously.

“Well, it turns out I _have_ all that stuff here, and there’s actually quite a bit we need you to do back here for the thing. My mistake, so sorry. D’you think you could—”

“Yes,” he says quickly and Niall buries his face in an oven glove to muffle his snickering. “I’m on my way right now.”

“He’s gonna be _so_ surprised,” Niall says when Harry hangs up. “I can’t wait. You better go wake up Lou.”

“He’s going to be a grump.”

“He’s _always_ a grump. Better he gets it out of his system now.”

They hear the door to Zayn’s car shut about twenty minutes later. Louis is awake again, albeit unwillingly, and the three of them are hidden in various locales in the sitting room: Niall behind the armchair, Louis behind the sofa, and Harry in the curtains. Harry can hear Niall giggling as Liam fiddles with the key in the lock, opening the door.

“Hey, guys, I—” He stops. All the lights are off. “Erm, guys?” He flicks on the switch and at that moment, Harry jumps out of the curtains. Their leaping out is a little off; Harry’s out first, then Niall, and then Louis pops up, still looking half-asleep, his hair a mess. 

“ _SURPRISE_ ,” they all shout, as in unison as they can possibly get.

Liam blinks in the light, staring at the streamers and balloons, at the cake with its candles on the table and the pizzas on the counter. Felix is sitting on the newly-acquired piano, fighting in some tangles of streamers. There are some leftover Christmas crackers as well, and Harry can’t wait to open those. “What the…”

“Niall said your birthday was today,” Harry says, clapping his hands gleefully. “So we set up a surprise for you!”

“I…I didn’t think any of you knew it, honestly. I can’t believe it!”

"I only found out because you asked me to get a fiver from your wallet that time and I saw your ID. Why didn’t you say anything?” Niall asks, shaking his head.

Liam shrugs. “Dunno, it seemed like too much trouble with the storm and all. But…wow!” He laughs and suddenly looks at Harry. “That list was shit, wasn’t it?”

Harry cackles like the witch he is. “Absolutely!”

They all hug him and usher him over to the table. They wait to cut the cake until they’ve eaten, Louis shooing away all food but grabbing for the crackers immediately. A crown pops out of his and the look on his face is so severe that Harry chokes on a bite of his pizza and Liam has to slap him on the back until he gasps some air into his lungs, his eyes watering.

“Think you should have this one instead,” Louis says, placing it on Harry’s head.

“Don’t you have to marry me first?”

“Not if you keep asking questions like that.” Louis grins slowly. “Besides, one could say you’re already a bit of a queen, right?”

“ _Ooh_ , come on,” Niall says as Harry sticks his tongue out, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Take the damn thing.”

“No, give me another one!”

The next one is a wizard’s hat with a shiny silver star on it. Louis puts it on with a smirk. “There,” he says. “Much better.”

“You’re an arse.”

“You adore me.”

Niall’s is a pirate hat and Liam’s is a jester’s. They eat pizza like starving uni students, cracking open beers and spilling on each other, laughing too much to care as Harry's record player blares from the kitchen. 

“Sorry we didn’t invite your girlfriend,” Niall says, his mouth full. “But we don’t really know her, or anything…”

“My girlfriend?” Liam gets a faraway look on his face, like suddenly he’s been transported to another time. “Oh, yeah. Her name’s Sophia, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Where does she live?”

“London.”

“Well, that’s specific,” Louis mumbles. “Whereabouts?”

“We met at uni.”

Louis and Harry exchange a look. “That’s…nice,” Louis says. “Have you been together long?”

“Months.” Liam frowns. “I forget.”

“Oh,” Harry says, not sure what to make of this conversation. It’s almost as if Liam isn’t sure about any of it, which doesn’t make sense at all, seeing as it’s _his_ life. “Have you got a picture of her?”

He nods eagerly at that and pulls out his phone, opening his gallery. Despite the massive crack in his phone’s screen, she’s quite lovely, with dark hair and vivid green eyes. She looks happy in the picture, smiling brightly.

“Wow, stunner,” Niall says. “Her, not the phone. Yikes, mate.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” Liam replies, smiling at the picture. “The phone was an accident.”

Harry can’t say why, but there’s something vaguely familiar about that picture, like he’s seen it somewhere before. Normally, he’s quite good with faces but he just can’t put his finger on it this time. Instead of saying anything, he takes a drink from his red cup, meeting Louis’ eyes over the rim. Louis makes a weird face as well.

He decides to take a peek at his aura again, just to see if it’s changed. It hasn’t—it’s still that shimmering silver, just like Louis’ next to him. Niall’s is the only color in the entire room, a bright blue and yellow intermingling that almost makes his eyes hurt. Well, besides Harry’s, but he can’t really see his own unless he holds up a hand and squints, and to be honest it gives him a headache so he doesn’t try very often.

After they finish their pizza, they give him their presents. The wrapping on the one from Louis is atrocious, more tape than paper, but Liam looks stunned and thrilled to be receiving any presents at all. Niall gets him a new snapback he’s been wanting that match his sneakers, Harry gives him a collection of some of the best Batman and Justice League comics, and from Louis he gets a pair of sleek, shiny, expensive headphones.

“You did _not_ have to go to all the trouble,” Liam says, holding up the headphones. “Like, seriously?”

“I’m good for it,” Louis says, shrugging calmly. “Besides, I’m sick of listening to your shit music.”

“Michael Bublé is _not_ shit—”

Louis shudders, pretending to gag, and Liam throws some of the wrapping paper at him. They start tossing it back and forth, and Harry steps in to make sure it doesn’t escalate to wasting perfectly good pizza.

 “Can we discuss what makes good music tomorrow?” Niall asks. “We still have a cake that I slaved over.”

“Oh, _poor Niall_ ,” Louis says, squeezing his cheeks. “Okay, Liam, blow out your candles.”

Instead of just buying numbers like a regular person might, Niall painstakingly arranged twenty-two candles onto the cake, outlining the words in frosting that say HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIAM. He even went ahead and did some roses, which Louis admires with a longing gleam in his eye that makes Harry’s stomach twist.

“These are amazing,” Harry says, pointing to them. “I never knew you could do stuff like this!”

“Desserts are harder, honestly. But like I said, required. Everyone’s got to learn it, whether they want to or not. Helps you get a job.”

The very bare bones of an idea start to assemble in the back of Harry’s mind, a tiny seed gestating in spring’s soil. “So would you say you’re quite adept at pastries and stuff like that?”

“I’m all right, yeah. Taste for yourself, you be the judge.”

“It’s brilliant,” Liam says thickly, his mouth full of cake, some chocolate frosting caught at the corner of his mouth. “So good.”

“Is it?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes. “Is it, Liam?”

“Yeah.” He holds out his plate and fork. “Want some?”

Louis sighs, turning his face away. “No, I’d better not.”

Liam frowns. “How come?”

“He’s allergic,” Harry pipes up. It’s just a reflex, automatic. 

“To chocolate?”

“Yep.”

Liam sets his fork down on his plate, his eyes wide. “That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, it’s quite tragic,” Louis says, sighing again, louder this time.

Niall rolls his eyes. “All right, we get it. Your life sucks.”

“Still. I guess it’s better than yours.”

“Very funny.”

Later, while Niall and Liam are battling on FIFA, Harry and Louis chivalrously do the cleaning up. Harry tries to tell Louis to go back to bed, but isn’t hearing any of it, claiming that he agreed to help clean at their flatmate meeting, so he's going to do just that. Harry can’t deny that he appreciates it, so they do up the dishes together and put what’s left of the food away, kicking balloons around, Louis eyeing them with a playful look on his face.

Harry opens his mouth to say something at the same moment that Louis does. “Sorry, you go first,” he says.

Louis shakes his head. “No, you. I’ve got more time.”

“Well, with _that_ logic. I was just going to say, I had this idea. About Niall.”

“We can’t get rid of him,” Louis says, faux-sighing, “I’ve already tried.”

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Harry says, trying to hide his smile and utterly failing. “I was thinking about his potion and why it might be going wrong so often. I think I’m…trying too hard?”

“You are definitely _working_ hard, I wouldn’t say you’re trying too hard—”

“But I think that’s what the problem is. I think I’m trying too hard to make it about _me_. There’s so much magic I’m trying to pile into it, so much science, and I’m just over-thinking it. But I had this idea last week, after that row you two had.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He made food for us when we got back, food to apologize. Comfort food. Maybe _that’s_ what I need to do. Utilize something he knows, something simple.”

Louis catches on rather quick, always has. “You want to…cook your spell into something?”

“I was thinking baking, but yeah! I mean, his birthday’s in two weeks, I could do cupcakes, I’m ace at cupcakes.” He bites his lip as he hands a plate to Louis to dry. “It could work, right?”

“I don’t really know much about your magic, but I bet if anyone could try and make it work, it’d be you.”

He beams. “See, this is why I love you. You’re so encouraging and supportive—”

“—charming, dashing, _funny_ —”

“Modest, too. Can’t forget that one.”

“Honestly, Harry, the absolute truth is that I just want you to stop setting off explosions in the cellar. One of these days, Liam’s gonna have a heart attack and probably die and then we’ll have a very cross ghost on our hands.”

Harry frowns at that. “Erm. Speaking of…have you noticed anything _odd_ about Liam?”

“That's what I was going to say just now, actually. Beyond the usual?”

“Well, what _is_ the usual?”

“I just thought he was a bit weird. All of Niall’s friends are weird, us included.” Louis nods. “But to answer your question, yeah. He seems a bit…out of it at times?”

“Yeah. And…” Harry shakes his head. “I don’t know, it could be nothing.”

“What is it?”

“His aura. It looks like yours.”

Louis’ eyes widen. “Mine?”

“Yeah! It’s silvery and kind of smoky. I don’t know what that means, though. I thought yours was kind of unique, really.” Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t _think_ he’s a vampire—”

“If he were, he’d be tossing his guts right now after all that pizza and cake.” Louis looks over his shoulder to where Liam and Niall are throwing popcorn at each other, trying to get the other to fuck up in FIFA. “So, vampire’s defo out. But I don’t…I don’t know.” He looks at Harry questioningly. “He doesn’t _seem_ human, does he?”

Harry shakes his head. “Maybe that’s rude or whatever, but I don’t know. He feels different.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye on him, won’t we?”

“If we can,” Harry says. “He’s hardly ever around these days.”

“Ooh yeah, suspicious, that. Havin’ a _social life_.” Louis scoffs. “Who does he think he is?”

“I have a social life,” Harry protests. “I see people all day.”

“You see their animals, babe.”

“Still. That’s social. They’re always happy to see me.”

“Of course they are, you’re delightful.” Louis leans over to kiss Harry on the swell of his cheekbone. “And I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Harry pauses. 

Louis dries his hands off and declares one more happy birthday for Liam, but he’s got to get some sleep. Harry joins them at FIFA, but he is genuinely terrible at it and they spend more of their time laughing at him than trying to do much. Soon enough, he’s tired too and he bids them both a good night, retreating into the room he shares with Louis. He’s already dead asleep ( _ha_ ) and to Harry’s surprise and delight, he can hear him snoring quietly. He loves that Louis breathes more and more with him around. There’s something poetic about that.

As he strips down to his pants, he catches a glimpse of his laptop on the floor—and an idea strikes him. He hoists it up and sits down at Louis’ desk, turning it on in the dark. It’s time for a little impromptu research, Bella Swan-style. He can’t believe it took him this long to make the literary connection, but he completely understands what it feels like to have a million questions and hardly any answers.

He types _“louis v”_ into the search bar. That’s a mistake that ends with dozens of results about Louis Vuitton; he frowns and tries again.

_“louis v king”_

The first result pops up quickly. Louis the Lazy, son of Lothair, the last Carolingian monarch, succeeded by Hugh Capet. Harry takes notes on a notepad that’s sitting on the desk, the glow of the screen illuminating his face.

An hour later, he shakes Louis awake. “What, Haz?” he whispers muzzily.

“You’re a descendant of Charlemagne,” he says hoarsely.

Louis stares up at him, frowning. He blinks several times, rubbing at one eye sleepily. “What?”

“You! You’re a descendant of Charlemagne! He’s your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather or whatever. One of the most influential Europeans in all history, ringing a bell?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I must’ve forgot to mention that.”

“And you were the last Carolingian monarch! Hugh Capet took over after that, and—”

“ _Don’t_ talk about him,” Louis says, rolling over. Yawning, he says, “I fucking hate that guy. Stole m’ throne.”

Harry shakes his head. “That’s incredible.”  He’s going to be in a state of disbelief for the rest of his life. “Louis, isn’t that incredible?”

His only answer is his tiny, soft breathing again. Harry sits back on his heels in bed, staring down at Louis. It hit him earlier, but it’s hitting him again, all over again, just how long Louis has been alive and the person he used to be.

 _I’ve gotta talk to someone about this,_ Harry thinks. There’s Niall, sure, but he’s probably not up to speed on most of it, knowing Louis’ ability to keep secrets. Liam still doesn’t know, so he settles on someone he probably should’ve told a long time ago. 

Harry goes into the closet they're learning to share (Harry has far too many silky floral prints and boots) and pulls out a trunk of his that's filled with magical goodies. He pulls out a thin, flat item covered in a swath of dark blue velvet. He sets it on the desk, pulling the fabric off with a flourish. It's an antique silver mirror, one that belonged to his grandmother, and used for a specific purpose. Also, living with a werewolf, he's decided keeping it out of sight might just be for the best. Its face is shadowed with a kind of black powder, symbols scratched into its edges. 

He taps it with one finger. "Hey, wake up."

It glows faintly and he draws the rune he made for Gemma on its surface. The whole of it goes black before it shines brightly and shows him Gemma, sitting on her bed, painting her toenails and bobbing her head as she listens to music. 

"Hey!" 

She jumps, almost knocking over her nail polish. She frowns at her mirror on her dresser. "Poison  _toads_ , Harry, give a girl some warning!" 

"Sorry. But it's not my fault your mirror's always on silent!"

"What is it?" she asks, getting up and hobbling over to her mirror. "Is something wrong? You only ever scry with me if it's something important."

"It  _is_ important. I wanted to chat to you face to face." 

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because Louis is asleep.”

“ _Ooh_ , Louis, your _boyfriend_?” She makes a sound on the other side that sounds like a snort and a giggle at the same time. “Mum and I still think he’s fake.”

“What? Nuh-uh. Mum believes me.”

“Well you never talk about him, you haven’t brought him ’round—”

“That’s why I’m scrying! I need to talk about him.” He turns the mirror to face Louis; it's dark in their room and all that's visible of him is a tuft of hair and the swell of a shoulder over his blanket. "Also, see? Not fake." 

She sits down on her bed, leaning the mirror against her knees. “Well, is everything all right?”

He turns it back around to look at her. “Yeah, of course. Sort of?" He shakes his head. "I don’t know, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I just need to tell someone something before I explode. I can't take it anymore."

This time, there’s a longer pause as she looks at him thoroughly. More seriously, Gemma says, “Harry. You’re not, like...”

“No, I'm not pregnant! No.” _Not yet, anyway_. “Um. It’s more about…what he is.” Harry glances over his shoulder to where Louis is fast asleep. They haven't really talked about Harry telling people, but Louis surely wouldn't have a problem with it, right? After all, he already told his family about Harry and it's not like he's taking out a page in  _The Sun_ , which he wouldn't anyway because they're trash. It's family, that's got to be allowed when it comes to supernatural confessions. 

“Is he a witch? Mum said you told him about you, which is nice and all, though the Council probably won’t be too happy. But between you and me, fuck them, right? You should be allowed to be honest with who you love. And she said he _gets_ you, so he must be, right?”

“No, he’s not, actually. He’s…” _Oh my stars, I can’t believe I’m about to say this._  "This is going to sound crazy." 

 She laughs. “Harry. _Nothing_ is too crazy for me.”

“All right, if you say so. " He takes a deep breath. "Louis? He’s a vampire.”

“He—” She laughs. “What?”

“I’m serious!” He explains that yes, vampires are real, that they live in secret, just like witches do. “You remember Zayn, yeah?”

“So you’re saying…sirens are real, and vampires are real, too?” Her voice is distinctly hushed now, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Does that mean other stuff could be real, too? Like…werewolves and fairies?”

Harry laughs, biting his lip. “Maybe? Who knows, honestly.”

“So how does it all work, then?”

“Well…I guess _technically_ he’s undead.”

“Harry,” she says, somewhat disapprovingly, wrinkling her nose.

“What? He’s people, too! Just because he died…and then came back. It’s not like he hasn’t got a soul, Gem. He has feelings, he laughs, he yells at footie matches." He can't help the fondness as he says, "He’s real, he’s _alive_.”

“I…actually believe you.” She takes a deep breath, letting it out. “Wow. No wonder you were being so sneaky about all of it." 

Harry winces. “That’s not all of it, Gem.”

“There’s _more_? How could there possibly be more after that?" 

“Well. He's a bit older than me."

Gemma bites one of her nails. "How much older?"

"Uh. A lot?"

"Harry."

"He’s, uh…he used to be the King of France. When he was alive, he was Louis V. In the tenth century."

Gemma just stares at him for a long moment, her mouth opening and closing like she  _wants_ to say something, but doesn't quite know what or how or even where to begin. Finally, she just laughs and shakes her head. 

"What?" he asks.

"Does this make your boyfriend a cougar, then?" 

Harry chokes, laughing before he can stop himself, Gemma joining in, hers tinged with incredulity.

Beside him, Louis stirs, rolling over. "What's so funny," he murmurs, one arm thrown up on his pillow, his t-shirt dragging up to expose a slice of his stomach. 

"Nothing, Lou," he says, covering his mirror with both hands to block out Gemma's laughing face. "Go back to sleep."

Behind his hands, Gemma whispers, still giggling, "When Mum finds out, you're  _so_ grounded." 

**Author's Note:**

> have you ever tried to do something while you're sick...and it's just like your brain doesn't work anymore? that was me, i've honestly had this open for like 6 hours because i just CANNOT but here it is, i rewrote a ton of it so if it's shit, blame it on my cold bye
> 
> the next one's gonna be a lot longer probs so sorry if it takes me forever
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://www.g-uttertrash.tumblr.com/)! sorta
> 
> also there are only 3 more after this :o


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